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  Ping-Pong shouldered his rifle.

  “Oh, shit,” Steve said.

  “Hit the girl. I’ll take the big fucker.”

  As Dustin finished talking he saw Steve’s firing marker appear over the girl’s body.

  “Twelve hundred meters,” Waren said. “Wind is west to east, ten knots.”

  Dustin relaxed his breathing and watched as the three monsters lowered their shoulders and skulked several steps toward the window. Their fingers splayed in a claw-like manner. The mouth of the man who had changed most flipped open and closed. Dustin watched as globs of thick, cooling saliva fell from the thing’s face to the ground.

  Dustin exhaled slowly, and depressed the trigger.

  His rifle thrummed and recoiled, sending one of the impossibly fast darts through the cooling air of Selva’s evening. The missile impacted the half-dead marine on his left side, just below the monstrous arm. Dustin watched Steve’s reticle flash and heard his gun fire.

  The strange thing he’d shot reached to its ribcage with its good arm–the mostly human one–and felt at the hole. Greenish blood poured out of the wound and ran down the man’s side, thick as oil. The hole in his side must’ve burned hot with pain. The thing turned away from the science hab in their direction.

  “Good shots, two hits. Fire again,” Waren said.

  Dustin plugged another round into the thing’s chest. This time a bright red circle of hot blood appeared in the tatter of its uniform and it staggered to and fro, then dropped, its massive arm propping it up like a tent pole before it became lifeless. A second and third shot from Steve missed the running female.

  She bolted, loping across the open ground of Stahl toward the window. A meter distant she leapt into the air far higher than she could have on a larger moon and attached herself to the outer hull of the habitat. She sneered and hissed at whatever she saw inside the science unit and reared her head back to smash it into the window.

  “Don’t break the glass,” Dustin said a millisecond before Steve fired a fourth round.

  Ping-Pong’s fresh round tore through the back of the mutant’s knee and struck the hull of the habitat with an audible metallic bang. The thing clutched at her ruined limb, letting go of the hab and falling. Steve fired once more as she writhed and put her down. She leaked bright colors into the earth.

  The third monster with the hideous face turned its attention to its fallen companions. Dustin lined up his crosshairs and put a round into it as Steve did the same. The creature took several painful steps toward the window of the science unit, and attempted a weak leap at the mirror-like window. An outstretched arm left a streak of warmth on the side of the unit that could only be blood.

  The thing had no sooner come to a rest in the beaten grass when one of the slaver monsters appeared from the far corner of the building. Half a meter taller than a human, the beast approached, its upper arms cocked back to punch at any threats, its lower limbs mincing together. With a curious tilt of its almond-shaped head it stamped forward on its multitude of legs, examining the corpses of its fledglings.

  The monster reached down and poked at the cooling bodies of the dead. The large arm of the first to die flopped around and the thing took a step back. It then dove forward, sinking both of its long claws into the flesh of the dead man’s back. It ripped and tore, rending skin and flesh until a large stretch of red muscle came free. It lifted the raw meat to its mouth with its smaller lower limbs and it fed. Its mandibles hacked and slashed, kneading the flesh into smaller, softer bits before swallowing it.

  Blood now in the water, the sharks came. Hundreds of the tiny bugs swarmed in. They hacked and slashed the bodies, tearing meals free with abandon. The marines watched as the bodies of their former colleagues were eaten bit by bit.

  The flesh hadn’t cooled before it was in the bellies of the Selvan freaks.

  Dustin took his eye away from his round scope and turned to Waren. “Signal the nerds in the box to sit tight. Wait for everything to leave their vicinity. Quick.”

  Waren got to his feet, and grabbed the thermal sheet.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Pioneer 3 conference room in Gharian orbit

  10 October 163 GA

  Daron Courser called the meeting to order and handed it off to Dr. Herbert Maine, who now stood at the front of the ancient steel table. All gathered looked at the print outs in front of them with skeptical eyes.

  “If you have attended one of these meetings, you have seen these images before,” Herbert began, standing as still as he could manage. He flipped through a handful of colorful and technical images of Ghara, then Selva, and then the enormous magnetic fields from both planets. The “Maine trough” as it had come to be known in his honor. He flipped to a recent image of the two magnetic fields, and zoomed in on the narrow gap the Selvan expedition used to pass through the danger.

  “We have two issues at hand for a return trip to Selva; its faster orbit around our sun has it much too far away to simply fly there at our leisure. If we were to leave now, the voyage would be a month or more longer than it should take, and would be wasteful of fuel, water and food. Second, the field surrounding Selva is at full strength, and will be entirely impassable.”

  “Doctor,” Sarah Adams began, “We are aware of the basic science. You’ve explained this many times already. Please advise us what our options are.”

  “As you wish, Senator Adams. Option A is the safest. That being: we simply wait until January twenty-sixth of next year and depart for Selva as already planned.”

  The room’s response told the doctor that idea wasn’t popular.

  “Our other option is to leave Ghara earlier than the twenty-sixth and head to a midway point in space, where a ship will stop and go dark for a period of time. When the magnetic energy from Selva drops to a safe level they may power up, and head to Selva. That plan is riskier, but if done properly, could shave twenty days off the journey.”

  “Just twenty days?” Daron Courser asked. He looked down at the print out. “Leaving here January sixth? That means our ships would arrive back on Selva . . . the thirty-first? That’s our best option?”

  “That is our fastest option,” Maine clarified.

  “What’s the risk to the crew or ships that could go halfway and wait? What are we talking about in terms of potential loss?” Daron asked.

  “It’s complicated,” Maine replied. He shifted his feet and his back shouted out at the egregious movement.

  “Try and make it not complicated,” Daron said back.

  “The ship would need to go dark–entirely powered down and inert–for at least twenty-four to thirty-six hours. The first risk would be the crew in flight suits for that time while the ship’s life support systems are off. The ship would become incredibly hot, and the crew would need to conserve water consumption and food during the powered-down portion of the journey. There is some risk that a crew member could die from exhaustion or heatstroke during that time. Dehydration would be a nuisance. At a minimum, the time waiting for the storms to pass would be unpleasant.”

  “We can deal with unpleasant, sir. I think you’ll find more hands raised to suffer what you’re speaking about than you’d expect,” Captain Dan Aribella said. “I’m in.” At his side sat Captain Leah Kingsman, the flight commander of the Selvan expedition, who agreed with a stern nod.

  “Your enthusiasm to support your comrades is all well and good, and will certainly help us to achieve the goal of returning ahead of schedule. Thank you. Now if I may continue, the larger risk would be if the crew were to power up before the magnetic fields diminished to a safe level,” Herbert said.

  “What would happen if they did?” Daron asked.

  “The delicate electronics aboard the ships would be damaged at best, destroyed at worst,” Maine said with a sigh.

  “To what degree?” Sarah Adams asked, resting her hands on her stomach and leaning back. The marines in the room were all showing visible signs of concern.

 
; “It is hard to say, Senator Adams,” Herbert said. “Damage to the navigation or flight control systems would be catastrophic. Any ships powered up too soon would be dead. The crew would freeze and perish unless they were able to move to another vessel with power and functioning electronics,” Maine said. He adjusted his glasses.

  “So you’re saying we could lose a crew, and potentially a whole ship?” Senator Adams said. “A ship that, I would add, is irreplaceable?”

  “The people on Selva can’t be replaced either,” Melody said, her words sounding almost like a threat.

  Sarah turned in her chair and regarded Melody with a pained expression. “Miss Cline, I can’t imagine what you’re thinking or feeling, but please imagine the impact the loss of even a single transorbital vessel would have on the colonies. We can’t replace them, and repairing them gets more challenging with every passing maintenance cycle. If we are not cautious, we risk isolating the colonies because of a lack of able craft. We will always be able to have more babies, but we are not able to make more ships.”

  Maine watched as Melody’s hand dropped down to her stomach and pressed against her baggy uniform there. He couldn’t place what her expression meant . . .

  “Senator Adams, I ensure you that line of logic won’t appeal to my daughter, or to the men and women of the Marines. They will go to any length to protect their kind,” Daron said.

  “With the notable exception of Waren Dillon, and perhaps others we are still unaware of,” Sarah quipped back. “I can’t support any plan of action that puts our already limited resources at greater risk. I opposed the original mission when it was deemed somewhat safe. I can’t support a mission that risks even more from the outset.”

  “We’ll see what the people want,” he said, bristling.

  Doctor Maine spoke. “As I said earlier, the risks are present, but we have time to train, and run tests on the ships chosen to make an earlier trip back. We could fine tune the situation so as to avoid an early start and the damage that would be done I should also say that the ship would suffer no structural damage, and if we were to retrieve it via a tow cable, it could be repaired if suitable parts were manufactured. Selva potentially offers us those raw materials to effect repairs and perhaps build a whole fleet of vessels for the colonies. Not to mention the medical opportunities there as well.”

  “Do the research, Doctor Maine,” Daron said. “We don’t need a lecture on the opportunities Selva offers us. You have ten days to report back to the senior senators on what you believe the actual chances of success would be. We’ll vote on it. In the meantime, everyone is to make themselves available to the doctor without question. The men and women back on Selva deserve all our effort, and I won’t have anyone regretting that we didn’t do enough.”

  The room slowly got to its collective feet and filtered out. Doctor Maine stepped back toward the vid screen and watched as they left. Some were excited at the chance for an earlier departure while the rest seemed daunted or flat out deflated by the risk it posed. He could see it in the way they walked, and the way they talked. Maine turned away to gather his tablet and notes off the small stand near the front of the room.

  “Doctor, I’d like a few words,” a woman’s voice said at his back.

  Melody held Doctor Maine’s gaze with her hard brown eyes. To his credit the doctor didn’t look away, and he didn’t move. He could’ve been a statue, etched from stone.

  “Yes, Lt. Cline? What can I do for you today?”

  “Your solutions . . . they’re not much of an improvement.”

  Herbert nodded and made a sour face. “Yes, I am sorry. I wish there was more we could do, but the science does not support much flexibility, or opportunity.”

  “Could I make a suggestion? An opportunity? A scenario that I think you should consider?” She asked him.

  “By all means,” Maine said.

  “You spoke of heading to the halfway point and waiting for the storms to stabilize.”

  “Correct.”

  Melody paused as a low-ranking military woman returned to the room to grab a few papers. When the door slid shut and they were alone, she continued.

  “What if the return ships didn’t go halfway and wait? What if they barreled right through the storm at full speed?”

  “Preposterous,” Maine chuckled. “The ship’s systems would be fried without any doubt, and they would drift in space. Likely be caught in a gravity well and plummet to the surface of Selva, or into the sun. A suicidal notion at best.”

  “Hear me out,” Melody said without a hint of desperation, or irrationality. “What if that ship–or ships–were moving at top speed when they cut the power and went dark? What if instead of powering down during the magnetic disturbances, then powering up afterward, it just shot through the storm like a projectile? A rock skipping over magnetic water.

  “The ship would still be dark for twenty-four to thirty-six hours if timed right, but we’d be able to shave off days. Weeks, depending on the orbits of Selva and Ghara, and the thickness of the field around Selva.”

  Maine shook his head as the enormity of the idea breached his mind. “The mathematics of the calculations would be staggering. The variables to take into consideration are numerous and very serious. It would take weeks for me to reach a solution. Never mind the risk to the crews, assuming the senators approve such a mission.”

  “I’m not looking for their approval, Doctor. I’m looking for you to work out those complex calculations, maybe lose them under the door of my quarters and then forget you ever did it.”

  Maine looked at her hard and then laughed like he’d been let in on a joke. “You have gumption, Lieutenant. I approve tremendously. I do think it is appropriate for me to mention yet again that this is a highly dangerous idea, and that I am aware that this comes from a burning desire to protect your husband. I have to wonder, are you being irrational in this at all?”

  “Do you want to see irrational, Herbert? Don’t fuck with a pregnant woman, her baby, or her husband. I’ll do anything to make sure he’s safe, and anything to preserve this family,” Melody said. Her face contorted the moment she finished talking, and she covered her mouth and looked away.

  “Said a bit too much, eh?”

  She looked back to him, her eyes running with streams of tears. She nodded, and wiped them away.

  “Fucking hormones. Driving me crazy.”

  “We all struggle with one demon or another. You have nothing to worry about with me. If it will give you relief, you have my word that your pregnancy will remain a secret we share. I will begin working on the idea you have suggested post-haste.”

  “That’s a relief, thank you.”

  “And perhaps we will keep this between the three of us? For now at least.” Herbert winked at her and smiled.

  “Three of us?” Melody was suddenly off put by his strange gesture. Herbert pointed at her belly. “Right. Right. You got it. Three of us.” She laughed at herself.

  Melody turned and left the conference room, leaving Herbert Maine with a lot to think about, and even more to do.

  Chapter Forty

  No man’s land, planet of Selva

  13 October 163 GA

  Dustin, Waren and Steve walked in the black of the muggy Selvan night. Above them the dense canopy of leaves and mushroom caps towered, forming a ceiling that blocked out every mote of light from the stars, and trapped the warmth of the retired day.

  “This night vision gear is pure water,” Dustin said to his team. “We’d be bent without it.”

  “Just be aware that our assumption that the bugs can’t see at night is exactly that; an assumption.” Waren spoke over their helmet comms. He remained in their mushroom tower fortress high above, to provide an eye in the sky- and sniper support should they need it.

  And they might.

  “I need you to improve your positivity,” Steve said. “This is tough enough without your sour-ass.”

  “My skills come with a price, Ping-Pong. Yo
u get a highly trained marine sniper covering you, but it’s at the cost of it being me, and me being able to make words with my mouth,” Waren said.

  “Yeah, well. Shit happens.”

  “Boys,” Dustin said. “We’re almost at the forest edge, let’s get quieter.”

  “Roger,” Steve said and slowed his gait until his movements only tickled the leaves of the foliage. The marines on the ground wore their armored expeditionary suits. The black carapace protected their bodies from small arms fire and dangerous environments but, perhaps most important of all on this dark night, it shielded them from the senses of the army of monsters.

  Dustin took a knee inside the edge of the forest at the base of the slope that led up to Stahl. He could see the laboratory habitat in the middle of the ghost town. In it were the last known survivors of the expedition beyond the three marines. Using his rifle’s scope he scanned the dead man’s land between where he kneeled, and the defensive fortifications that had failed them.

  “Empty,” he said after several minutes.

  “There’s nothing to eat or spray with that blue shit,” Ping-Pong said. “Of course it’s empty. They’re picking over the corpses in the eastern defenses near the stream where the infantry made their last stand.”

  “Yeah. Waren can you see anything in the settlement that might spot us on approach?”

  “Nothing. Dead as my sex life. I’d still approach on your stomachs though. Pretend to be large sticks rolling uphill against the wind.”

  “Roger. Low crawl it is.”

  Dustin and Steve went to the ground and, one inch at a time, one limb at a time, they moved into the wasteland.

  “Movement, go dead,” Waren said.

  Dustin froze and dropped slowly, face-first, to the ground. A few meters away he knew Steve did the same.

  He felt the thing coming. The ground shook and trembled with a beating of heavy legs.